Free Style Flying
by Laquan Gillus Mortlock
Summary: Heard Max's story? Then you probably don't know about me. The defective bird kid. My life started with my murder. Are you sure you want to hear my story? Then hold on to your white coats and polka-dot nickers and enjoy the flight.


My life started with my murder.

"Bla, bla, bla…stupid rat face, knows I can't bloody well get this…" I mutter to myself as I walk down the dark city streets and look down at my to-do list. Hmmm…hmmm…wonder what's for lunch? She better not have forgotten me.

I wonder if that guy leaning against the dumpster is on drugs? Probably is, knowing the neighborhood I'm in. I let out a snort laugh as I walk by him. Oh my god! He just spat a giant gob of spit onto the ground... Talk about gross and totally unmannerly…ah well what am I talking about! I do that alllllllll the time. Haaaa…

I scrunch up the list and throw it over my shoulder letting the wind carry it off along with all the other dead leaves cluttering the streets. As I walk my eyes scan the foot path in front of me. Bits of gum and random bits of rubbish are coating the ground in filthy smelly layers. Yuk! Can't wait to get home... Well if a crumbling orphanage filled with drug addicts and violent teenagers is home then sure, that's my cup of tea.

Wow geez it's getting pretty dark outside, and pretty chilly. (Bleh, street lights always faulty in this part of the city.) Those midnight cleaners should really get started, before it gets too dark to see any crap to pick up, then end up tripping over something and cracking their head open, therefore leaving a bigger mess that someone else has to clean up. Talk about counter-productive! I giggle to myself as I think about some poor smelly garbage man knocked unconscious in a pool of his own blood, lying in the filthy streets. The wind rustles the main parks trees and sends rotting leaves and rubbish in a mini-tornado around my patched up boots.

I've always prided myself by my boots. People could say I had an almost unnatural affection for them. They had become a part of me, and I have never been anywhere without them. I shiver with pleasure from the memories. Well ma booties are probably the warmest things I've got on. The rest of me is nothing to look at really.

My choice of clothing would naturally repel any normal person, what with the appeal equal to a rodent garbage monster crawling out of the sewers. My clothing consists of ; sturdy boots, patched up stockings (which I had stolen from an op-shop and fixed…how pathetic is that?), vomit colored and showing signs of grime stains and definitely going to obtain rips and holes in the near future.. Dirty worn jean shorts, which originally were long legged but had to be sacrificed when I was desperately exiting a robbery scene. (What? Honestly, persons gotta live right?)

A very intricately sewed patched up semi top that had hard worked sleeves worn out at the ends, and a giant 'X' sewn in the middle of my chest, which obviously has a hidden sinister meaning to it. (Sorry not an x-men soul sister) Just kiddin nothing sinister about it, just means "no shit" for me. From anyone actually. Also means lookin out for myself, and ONLY myself.

But besides my fabulous scrappy clothes, I've never really seen myself as anything but a body to move in. I have arms, legs and a head with a brain in it, (hopefully) this is all that I ever needed to do the things I did for a living. No one ever called me 'pretty' or 'gorgeous'. I was only ever just me.

From the moment I was born I entered a hard life. Mum died, dad left and I never heard from him again. I was dumped at a daggy-trash-can-faced orphanage that encourages thievery, crime, and even kidnap. As you can imagine a persons gotta stay tough in these conditions to survive, so that 'X' was a reminder for me to stay strong and ride this crap part of my life out. Things will get better, they have to.

While I was contemplating how my life would eventually change and how I'd get myself a place of my own…maybe get that toaster I saw on a TV, I was very concerned when I did not stop to think of look, listen, stop and think when a banging 2 million dollar Mercedes bends screeched and honked trying to stop from running me over. But it was too late. I didn't react fast enough. I was like a dazed dear, couldn't move, didn't realize what was about to happen. All I knew was that I was screaming.

About 1 second later I was on the ground surrounded by a giant pool of my blood. Every bone in my body was broken and crushed. The shock of indescribable pain then complete numbness left my mind blank staring a rat scampering away under a bunch of leaves next to the sidewalk. I couldn't hear anything... but nothing. In the last seconds of my life I saw blurry shapes crowding around me, something glittered like metal, and then I left.

Oh my God! I'm dead…I'M DEAD! Shit! I didn't get to give Miranda my loot for the day! God she's gonna be pissed, bet she's gonna trash my room and then beat Teddy, poor boy, shoulda warned him not to be near Miranda when someone failed to bring in their debt! Oh man! And I had so much to live for! Sure leading a life of shameless crime and trickery is probably not what mommy had in mind for me but its better than nothing right? Then there was that pie man that was always nice to me. Snuck me expired food all the time. Best pies in Christopher Avenue! Oh who am I kiddin…no one would miss me.

I'm a nothing, probably be replaced by another girl, happy enough to take shelter in my room, and a bite to eat. I've always been a nothing...best to just let it all go…nothing there left for me now…ok I'm ready…send me on my way. Heaven or hell. 1st one would be better. I'd be super grateful for that.. Ok let's go…

Um….decide please?

Anything would be better than this smothering eternal darkness? Hello? Why am I hearing myself talk? Hmmm…that's weird.

If I'm dead, why am I thinking up all this crap? Unless…I'M NOT DEAD! What? That doesn't make sense!

Suddenly I'm jolted, and a sliver of angry fiery pain hits me, my whole body.

AWWWWWWWW!F***ING BITCH! WHO THE F*** IS SCREWING WITH MY DEAD BODY? AW AW AW! NOOO STOP I'M SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD DAMN IT! LEAVE ME TO REST IN PIECES!!!

I feel pain… then relief. Spasms then intense pain, fiery pain that stays in my mind for longer than it should. Jitters and bone rattling chainsaw grinding pain… AHHHHHHHHHH!! AHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHHH!

No thoughts. No room for thoughts. Just pain…and screaming.

Even though I knew I was unconscious and obviously not fully dead, I could scream in my head and hear it. Pain was trickling through the gaps. The gaps of life sting that was holding me trapped in my body. Somehow I knew this should not happen, it was unnatural, I was dead but yet was trapped in my dead body. It was painful and now no one could hear me calling for help.

Finally I fell into that beautiful blissful state of oblivion.

…

…

…

My heart started beating. Slowly…. struggling with its new found fast paced rhythm. Everything ached but the horrible pain was gone. And everything else before that… I'm not sure if there's a name for what state I was in, if it was alive dead or in between. But I felt empty, and oh so alone…

Somehow my mind started to reconstruct itself again. Putting stray thoughts together to form a sentence, and a meaning to it...Why?…

I moaned and felt a deep pressure in my head. Something was missing…Oh God…what's happening to me,…why do I feel so different? Foreign.

It's like I don't even know myself…do I? Who am I? What's my name? I started to panic.

I don't remember my name! I don't remember anything!

As soon as this thought registered I pushed through the blanket of unconsciousness and felt my body lying somewhere…on a table? Bed? Wasn't sure. But I was there. Alive. But clueless.

I was breathing, my heart was beating and I was alive. It felt so good to know this…it didn't matter who I was or how I got this way, all that mattered was that I had another chance.

OK OK…now let me try something…

I pushed and struggled to move any part of my body. Eventually I pushed my lead heavy eyelids open, and my dry lips too.

'Ah shit…" I croaked in a dry sand papery voice. I was in a brightly lit room, which looked sort of like a hospital. My only problem was that the light was burning and frying my eyeballs.

Lying on a stiff hard bed with white sheets, squinting up at the ceiling with my heart monitor going bonkers was how the man in a white coat found me, when he entered the room. He was funny-looking with giant glasses that barley fit on his small bald head and clothes that were 4 sizes too big. He reminded me of a kid, that is if his eyes didn't look so knowing and creepy. Little did I know this little dude was the devil reincarnate.

"Finally a positive response to the cellular mutation chemical! Subject 6.2 has responded to the experiment, with a success rate of 98%. Yes, I should check the fluid absorbtion….vitamin intake…hmm run some tests." The man muttered shuffling around my bed fiddling with tubes that were sticking out of me.

"Um…who…are you?" I rasp squinting at the man as he leans over me to fix a tangled bunch of tubes.

"Why hello subject 6.2, pardon me for my ignorance, you should have not woken up so early! You should rest some more, your mind and new body is still connecting and healing, you really shouldn't be up and about for at least 3 weeks. Don't worry I shall be visiting you regularly and help you slowly recover from your extensive transformation, and DNA mutation. The surgery was quite complex so we really don't know the outcome. But we must make sure your recovery process is gradual and positive. I'll be back in a flash to help you recuperate." The little man chirped walking quickly out of the room and shutting the door behind him.

My head hurt trying to understand the ET language I was presented with. Ah well you cant understand every person out there.

Sure enough whoever the little scientist freak was came back. After what felt like hours watching the blank white ceiling. He came in and told me to try and concentrate and move my fingers.

"Try to move you phalanges, come on you can do it…"

It was a slow exhausting activity. It was like wading though concrete, but eventually I could move them. The scientist man kept on rambling about how important it was for me to push through the grogginess and scrambled thoughts, if I wanted to recover faster I would make an effort to increase my stamina…blablabla…blabla and all that boring mumbo-jumbo--ET scientific crap that he somehow expected me to understand. This got on my nerves literally as my body decided to work again, I was able to twitch my foot. This pleased the little freak, so he gave me some sort of vitamins water to drink. It was gross and totally unnecessary but at least it soothed my aching throat. That's what I thought until my guts started squirming like hell. And I couldn't even move or scream bloody murder.

During my "coming back from the dead' time, I slowly regained feeling in my arms and legs. Moving was a struggle, and I was constantly helped by the scientist weirdo who I couldn't even understand. Not to mention how poor my vision had become after weeks of seeing only white everywhere and the occasional glint of silver, but since I could barely move my head there wasn't a wide variety of things I cold see.

I sort of felt like a blind zombie on drugs and her sidekick, baldie freak.

In some point in time of which I was totally oblivious as to when, I finally could gather the strength to sit up. That when I discovered something completely weird, weirder than the tiny old man scientist. Something was hanging off of my back. And it was part of me; I could faintly feel some nerves that hadn't been awakened yet tingling down my back. Oh brother…it really felt like any other limb… like an arm or leg, it was a connection familiar and alien at the same time. Like I was programmed to accept it. Maybe it would explain my hearts weird beating patterns. (Way too fast man, like I couldn't control my adrenaline.)

Oh look here comes the evil leprechaun with a tray full of…FOOD. It was all I could do not to throw myself at him like a starving wolf.

"Easy there 6.2!!! The supplements are not going to run away, don't panic, here we go." He said gently placing the tray on my lap. My hands shook as I tried to lift something that smelt like porridge to my mouth. I couldn't remember the taste of food. But if it smelt nice then my brain said EAT. I was using my fingers, but then I remembered something about a spoon and fork. So I thought about if for a minute and used the utensils to bring it to my mouth. It wasn't too bad, it was warm and I don't remember anything before this porridge so you could say it was my first ever meal. "The first supper"

The man was watching me intensely until I dropped my spoon and stared back expectantly.

" Experiment 6.2 do you have a name?"

I thought about it then said "nope"

" Have you ever seen anyone else besides me?"

"Nope."

" Do you like a specific sort of food?"

"Nope."

"Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Nope."

The little man smiled and visibly relaxed.

"Good. Very good…now I don't want you to panic when I say this but are you aware of where you are?"

I frowned and looked at him.

"Of course you don't. But don't worry. You're safe here; this is your new home. You shouldn't be afraid of me or of anyone else here. You understand?"

I nod.

"You can call this place I.C.O.S.E (intelligent corporation of scientific experimentation) In the future we will need your help, but for now all you have to do is concentrate on getting better. You are different now. Very different, relax and soon you'll understand why we did what we did." He said using a very professional detached voice.

I nodded again and hoped he could go away.

"Why can't I see very well?" My voice sounded muffled.

"Well, I apologize about that, it was a precautionary step to make sure you didn't over react when you came back, things can be very overwhelming when one can see every detail. The sight of you body is not very well, pleasant at the moment…and well lets just say you have a few extra features."

I absently nodded thinking. _Screw this I want to be able to see my fingers! Instead of peachy blurs, my eyesight has been deteriorating! How can they seriously control that? Freaks! Give me my eyes back you mother flying science bitch! _

"Of course if you feel that the loss of your vision will affect your recovery rate then I can arrange for you vision to be restored. 100%."

"Do it then." I hissed grumpily.

The doctor coughed then sighed.

'Alright then, this is going to hurt."

I was pushed firmly back on the hard bed and a device was attached to my head, covering the back part of my head with something cold pressed against either side.

Then without warning…two separate needles jabbed right into my head shocking the nerves leading straight to my eyeballs. I gasped and tried to scream but could only gasp because I didn't have the strength to scream. It was over quickly though. My eyeballs stung and a weird electric fizz sent pain through my head. Then I saw white again. I blinked several times my vision coming into focus... Everything was exceptionally clear, crystal… deadly clear; there was no denying I was alive now. I was in a lab and I was brought to life here.

My body was covered in a white sheet but I was dreading what I would see as I slowly brought my hands up from under the sheets. I cringed as I saw the thousands of stitches covering my arms, fingers and almost every inch of my skin. I knew it. I was a zombie back from the dead.

"I know it looks bad now but the skin re-generator is almost finished. We have an advanced genetic reconstruction program that regenerates skin cells and also strengthens the bodies' protection from diseases and injury. We did the same for your bones…they are new and improved, hollow and lightweight but super strong. Only a few more weeks and you will look as good as new."

I swallowed dreading the question I had to ask.

"What are the things on my back?"

The doctor paused as if considering something grave and serious.

"They are your wings."

SAYYYYYY WHATTTTTTT?????

"What?" I asked blankly.

"You have been genetically modified 6.2. You are our only successful subject to have accepted the foreign DNA combination of Bird, without having to be grown from a fertile egg…a fetus. Of course the procedure was very expensive, so you realize that we cannot possible let any harm come to you. You are worth millions of dollars 6.2…you are our treasure. As to your wings, yes they are real, they are a part of you and you will learn to use them…soon. Please don't try to unfurl them just yet until we move you into a more spacious area."

I gawked at him like he had grown 2 more heads.

"W-wings? Like a birds wings?" I stuttered shaking, and trying to have a peep over my shoulder.

"What else could they be?" Asked the doctor clearly annoyed by my stupid reaction.


End file.
